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Eroan
Eroan & Nazili During one rest stop of many during the 50-something days spent travelling to the surface, Nazili seeks out Eroan. She perches next to him, her head downcast. After a moment, she turns to face him. “I feel compelled to apologize… on behalf of what Vengeance said to you. I observed it all… but all of my struggles fell flat against his control. Out of everyone he attacked, it seems like he got under your skin the most.” Eroan is surprised at her approach, but doesn't move away as she sits beside him. He quietly studies her face as she speaks. When she finishes, he finds himself casting his own eyes down and fidgeting with his gloves. "While the sentiment is appreciated, you've nothing to apologize for, Nazili...Much as I try to hide them, I do possess emotions and the unfortunate side effect of that is the knowledge that there will always be those who are capable of coming along and toying with them." He sighs and is quiet again for a beat, trying to choose his next words. "...He got to me because he's right about me...I feel as though I should be the one apologizing to you. It was my own actions that caused our friendship to splinter and I don't know how to fix it. He was right about Cal--" He chokes on his words for a moment before continuing, pulling his gloves off as he speaks. "He was right that that name can drive me to my knees...and I hate myself for it. But..." He releases a shaky breath before he asks almost inaudibly, "May I show you something?" Nazili rests a soft hand on his shoulder. "Anything. Well... as long as it's, you know, more than just visual." Eroan smiles softly for a moment in spite of himself, appreciative of the comment. "If I'm honest, it means more that it isn't visual," he says, his voice still kept low. Gently, he lifts Nazili's hand from his shoulder and lays it, palm down, in his own open ones. His hands, now devoid of their usual protective coverings are grotesque. Depressed scars and raised ridges crisscross over his palms, fingers, and their backs. Oddly puckered flesh hides beneath the ridged scarring on his palms, the top layers of skin there having been burned away and regrown long ago. His fingers are crooked and knobby from being broken many times over and improperly set before they healed; each one is missing it's fingernail. Thick scars wrap around his wrists as if from bonds that were kept too tight for too long and it takes a monumental effort for him not to flinch as he allows her to touch them. "...The hands of disobedient child, plucked from the streets," he whispers. "The hands of a man with compassion who vehemently rejected his training for as long as he could...The hands of a murderer..." Eroan's eyes glaze over slightly as he continues. "I know what it's like to kill without remorse...After so many years, one seems to become numb to it...I still remember the first time He sent me after someone..." He trails off for a moment before shaking himself out of it. "But I am not that person anymore and these are my reminder...I need to become stronger to finally eliminate Him, but not at the expense of myself...or my friends. Nothing Vengeance could have said to me would change that." Nazili feels his skin, her face becoming more despondent as she trails her fingers over each scar. “You must think I’m lucky, then. The sun’s able to hide all of my scars. My… transgressions.” Nazili inhales deeply. “Well, most of them anyway.” Nazili shuts her eyes tight, focusing intensely. Her glamour drops in an instant, all of the grotesque scars appearing once again. She calms her breathing adeptly, giving Eroan ample time to examine them while she unravels her handwraps. As the cloth falls away, Nazili’s tattoos pulse, the scars dissolving before his eyes. All except two. The two long, clean scars that mar her wrists are still left behind. “I chose these to keep. As a grim reminder of my greatest sin. My greatest downfall. The cultists gave them to me, but nonetheless, they are what started a downward spiral into a very dark place. One I had only just emerged from mere months before Cliffhaven.” A look of shame overcomes Nazili’s face. “You’re not the only one who used to find duty bloodshed, Eroan. Only for me, this wasn’t only duty, but pleasure.” Nazili’s hand begins to tremble ever so slightly. “This Vengeance takeover. It’s nobody’s fault but my own. I had a job, and I failed. I corrupted the spirit. The first time this sort of thing happened, it wasn’t a possession. I wasn’t locked away in a mind-cage. It was a partnership. Vengeance and I. And we were near unstoppable…” "Not lucky, no," he says, looking over her markings reverently before she replaces the glamour. "You choose to hide your scars with magic. I chose to disguise my own with ink..." Eroan gently grasps Nazili's forearms. Tenderly, he runs his bare thumbs down the scars on her wrists, moving his hands with them until he can clasp her hands together between his larger ones. "No one is perfect, Nazili...When he took over and wore your face in place of his own, the lot of us were more worried about you than we were for ourselves. The past is the past, and while it may not always stay there for any of us, I was foolish to think that you all were incapable of holding your own against whatever may come...Do you trust us to help protect you, Mellonamin?" "Protect me?” Nazili’s eyes are downcast. “From my past or from myself? And the monsters I have created?” "All of the above, if the situation calls for it. We may not be able to fight your battles for you, but we're here to help however we can." He takes his right hand from the hold in between them and brushes the backs of his knuckles over Nazili's cheek gently. "Even if there's nothing more we can do than act as a reminder that you are not alone anymore." “We are more alike than we are dissimilar, I’ve noticed. We’ve both been through hell on Earth, Hell itself, and back again.” Nazili holds the wrist of his hand that is up against her cheek lightly. “Neither are you alone, my friend. Your fight is my fight. We are nos’abhir. In my dialect, that means ‘kin’. "My thoughts were the same," Eroan says, smiling softly once more. "It has been a very long time since I had someone I could call kin. Only one had managed to earn that title after my parents...until now. I will be honest, I'm terrified of losing you all, but...I think I could get used to having a family again. “I’ve had only two other families before. One by blood, one by fate, and my third is of my own choosing.” Nazili gives Eroan a sideways smile. “And I am going to pour all of my love into this one just as much as the others.” She rests her head on his shoulder as a gesture of solidarity. He leans his cheek against her head and his expression becomes somber again. "I don't know how much love can still be salvaged from the recesses of my mind...and half of my heart is still elsewhere...Quite possibly dead..." He squeezes his eyes shut with the unexpected wave of emotion that floods him. "It's a term that I'll have to refamiliarize myself with after so long." "I did not find it so difficult. You and I both know too well that it is an enormous risk to love- but the way I see it, a life without love is not a life worth living." A small smile creeps onto Nazili's lips. "All the pain... it'll be worth it in the end." Eroan hums, not entirely convinced. "Perhaps..." he mumbles. He lifts his hand once more, curling his fingers in to protect his palm out of habit, and rests his knuckles on the back of Nazili's head, absentmindedly stroking her hair with his thumb. "I feel like I cannot yet let myself experience the full brunt of those emotions. But not for my own sake. Until He is dealt with, they are a liability. They could get you all killed or worse, because He would know that he could use you against me...Don't get me wrong, I would stand between any one of you and a blade without hesitation, but..." His shoulders shake slightly and he breathes for a moment. "It's why He's been after me for the last fifteen years and yet, even for all of His power, I still draw breath. It's a form of torture, of isolation. He takes those whom I've begun to love and tears them apart in front of me...It's why I'd been travelling alone for two years until you all found me...Why I was willing to risk my life to try to protect you...Not because I feel you are unable to protect yourselves, but because I feel that I will not be strong enough to help protect you when the time comes..." "We will get rid of him. I'm sure of it, Eroan." She turns to face him. "May I offer you a challenge?" Nazili does not leave much time for a response before continuing on, almost as if it was never a question in the first place. "When we get rid of Calathese, it's not going to be the end, not for you at least. When you close your eyes at night, he'll be there. When you glance at the scars on your body, he'll be there. He'll be dead, yet he will still be there." Nazili inhales and exhales calmly as she gathers her thoughts. She puts a reassuring hand on top of his. "I think you should start now. The task of disassociation. More intensely than ever before. Take away his power before we face him. Don't you want to see that look in his eye? The knowledge that you are giving him no power to hurt you?" Nazili chuckles. "The greatest pain a power-hungry man can feel is the certainty that he is powerless." Nazili pauses for a moment to let the words sink in. "I am offering you my services in guided meditation sessions. It's not going to be easy, but I feel like you would benefit greatly from them." Eroan considers her words as he keeps his attention on the hand she keeps covering with her own. "I would like that very much," he replies after awhile. "I am willing to learn anything that you are willing to teach me. But the thought still plagues me...What am I to do if he does manage to capture one of you...? Even with this training, I don't believe I'm capable of standing idly by and pretending it does not affect me." “If Calathese harms any member of this family, it affects us all. We’re going to be prepared to fight him.” Nazili takes his hands in hers. “We’re in this together. The urge to protect your loved ones is one of the most powerful weapons you have. I am not saying you cut off all of your emotions. We’re going to try and get you to manifest certain ones in beneficial ways.” Nazili takes a deep breath. “I am tired of losing my family to evils beyond my control. I am just as scared as you are of losing any of them.” Nazili’s voice hardens a little bit. “But I try to turn that fear into action. Every chance I get.” Eroan steels his expression and squeezes Nazili's hand, conviction etched across his features. "Show me."